Blue Box and Scarlet Time
by Time Lady 802379
Summary: On the anniversary of his family's deaths, Jane and Lisbon stumble upon a strange blue box in the street, and an even stranger man who thinks he can give Patrick Jane some peace of mind at last. Jane Pain!
1. Quit Seeing It

**I thought of this, and the second I did, I had to write it! I loved the idea as soon as it crossed my mind, and I hope you will too! Frankly I'm surprised that no-one's thought of this before! But I'm also glad, as it gived _me_ the oppertunity to write it for you!**

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"I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Jane; just because you have an enormously smart-mouthed disposition and a death wish does _not_ mean that you have to employ both traits around emotionally unstable and potentially _violent_ suspects!"

"Come on, Lisbon!" Jane grinned sideways at her, still gingerly nursing the flaming red hand-shaped mark on his slightly inflamed cheek. "I let her slap me on purpose! You've been in a frankly foul mood all week, and I know how much you love seeing me getting injured on a case!" He shrank away from her as she threw a murderous glare in his direction.

"If I enjoy seeing you being hit so much, why am _I_ not allowed to be the one hitting you?"

"There is, in fact, my dear Lisbon, a line between _hitting_ and _fatally wounding_, believe it or not. If you start entertaining yourself at the expense of my face, I fear that line may be crossed."

Lisbon shook her head, disbelieving but unwilling to argue. "Why are we walking back to CBI anyway? I still don't see..."

"One simple reason; you need it. Don't attempt denying it!" He chuckled as she growled at him. "You know you need the fresh air. You've been cooped up inside for days, the longest amount of time you've spent outside is a brisk walk to the SUV. You're annoyed because La Rouche's been on your back about keeping me in line, don't ask me how I know, I just do, but even that's not the real reason you're so grouchy! You're currently pondering the most long-winded, drawn-out and probably painful ways of killing me because I just solved our first case for days in a matter of minutes!"

"You're just showing off now..." she grumbled at him, speeding up in an attempt to leave him behind on the sidewalk.

But he simply caught her up and smiled disarmingly at her. "Thus, we walk back to the office."

"Please tell me you didn't just say "_thus_"? You've just reached a whole new level of annoying!" Lisbon shook her head again, trying to look anywhere but at her insufferable consultant.

It was true that she'd been in a bad mood for a while. The cases that came in were few and far between, so the whole unit was bored out of their minds, so much so that even Jane had almost run out of ways to keep people entertained (short of being kidnapped and almost burnt alive again). La Rouche had been stalking her and Jane almost constantly, trying to wean information out of them about anything and everything. Jane however, was a lot more successful in his attempts at avoiding the annoying man that Lisbon was, and so whenever La Rouche did catch up with her alone and unawares, not only did she have to answer seemingly unimportant questions, she also got an earful about how Jane was out of control and needed reigning in.

Jane, being Jane, found the whole situation hilarious. He'd been annoyingly happy recently. Over the last few days Lisbon had noticed that he seemed incapable of keeping still; he always had to be doing something, be with someone, more likely annoying someone, usually her. Then they'd finally got an interesting-sounding case. But the blonde haired consultant had closed the whole thing in a little under fifteen minutes flat.

He was so infuriating!

Now they had nothing to do.

Again.

And it was all Patrick Jane's fault.

"Sulking doesn't become you, Theresa, it really doesn't. And no matter how much you try, you can't make it suit you!" Jane wiggled his eyebrows at her, probably expecting some kind of witty, snarky response.

But Theresa Lisbon found that, today, she just didn't care about fighting with him. "Shut up, Jane!"

He seemed to get the message that time, and finally lapsed into a sort-of silence. Knowing Jane, he would never achieve a full bona fide silent state, but a quiet humming was a considerable improvement to his usual near constant chatter, so Lisbon accepted that he was making an effort and left it at that. Clearly he sensed that she really wasn't in the mood.

So if she wasn't in that kind of mood, why was he?

True, the only time he really shut up was whenever a Red John case surfaced, and that was when they all started worrying for his mental health and physical wellbeing, but there'd been no sign of Red John for months. So therefore, Patrick had been happy, healthy, and annoying. But why was he suddenly _so_ happy? Closing cases in record time was normal for him, and it was what made the Serious Crimes Unit so renounced in the CBI, but at the rate he was going he'd break his own record twice over if he wasn't careful.

She looked sideways at him out of the corner of her eye and caught the look on his face. For a split second his mask had slipped. For that flash she'd seen the pain and anger and sadness that he was hiding. Only now could she see just how hyped-up he was. He was practically running on empty. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't even remember a time in the last few weeks when he'd retired to that attic at CBI that he seemed to have claimed as his own, and she hadn't noticed him sleeping on his couch. Had he been sleeping at all? Looking at him now she could see the bags under his eyes, the faint trace of stubble that he was only just hiding, the way his skin was far too pale and his eyes lacked that twinkling spark he always had that seemed to light up his entire personality. He'd been running around solving so many problems and generally keeping himself busy it didn't look like he'd had any time for himself at all. Why?

She mentally started to run through all the dates in her head that were bad for him. It took her under a second.

It was almost as if she'd walked straight into a brick wall. One moment she was walking with a perplexed edge to her features, the next she'd stopped dead, a look of horror on her face, her hands clenched into fists, cursing her own stupidity and selfishness.

Jane carried on for a few seconds before he noticed she'd stopped, he was so engrossed in his humming and a passing butterfly. He turned when he noticed her absence, looking at her in puzzlement. "Lisbon?" he asked.

"Oh God... Jane?" she whispered.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" Shocked, he rushed back to her, worried.

Suddenly all his recent erratic behaviour made perfect sense. He was trying desperately to distract himself, keeping himself busy with all the work, entertaining her when she was down, pulling tricks on the team and telling jokes, always doing something, never being on his own for too long.

Slowly, as if she were scared he'd run for the hills, she met his gaze, and felt guilty for the frantic worry she saw she'd planted in his eyes. "It's today... Isn't it?" she said carefully.

The effect was instantaneous. He froze, staring unseeing into her face, so many emotions swirling in his eyes she felt she'd drown in them. He was almost robotic the way he slowly stepped back a few paces, arms slack at his sides, eyes downcast, head bowed, shoulders shaking, his whole body quivering slightly. It was a few seconds before he spoke again, and when he did the sound shook Lisbon to her core.

"It doesn't matter..." His voice was empty, drained of any feeling. He shook his head slowly. "It doesn't matter..." he said again, quieter this time.

Lisbon rushed over to him, taking his hands in hers. "Of course, of course it matters! Why didn't you tell me?"

"What good would it do?" he snapped, his voice suddenly cold, steel hard and angry. "What good would anything do? Nothing I do would make any difference. Nothing will bring them back, what should I do? What would _you_ have me do?" He snatched his hands away, turning his back to her and beginning to walk.

She jogged in front of him, placing a firm hand on his chest, halting him mid-step. "You should have told someone. If not me than someone, anyone. Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt? Hell, even _La Rouche_ if you wanted! Then at least someone would be with you!"

Lisbon took a deep breath. "You always help people with their problems, yet you won't let anyone help you with yours. Today of all days, you should not be alone, and you know it. You should have someone to help you, to talk to you, even just to be with you. We all would, Patrick, all of us. All you have to do is ask. But you won't will you? You won't ask, because you're too proud. You think that just because you ask us for our help, Red John will target us. But you don't know that. Still, you won't take the risk. We deserve to be able to make our own decisions, to look after ourselves. We _can_ look after ourselves, and we can look after you too. You make our decisions for us. Well, I'm not going to let you this time, because you don't know what's best. You think you do, but you don't. So here's what we're going to do; we're going to go back to CBI, we're going to get Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby, we're _all_ going to take the rest of the day off, and we're all going to have a good time! And you _will_ enjoy yourself, or so help me, I _will _shoot you! Clear?"

Jane was silent. He simply stared at her, she could almost see the wheels turning in his head, trying to find a way out of it. She waited. Today, on the day his family died, Theresa Lisbon was not going to take no for an answer.

Then he smiled. Suddenly, his arms were around her, holding her tightly, hugging her with all the strength he had left in him. She returned the gesture whole-heartedly, smiling happily.

"Thank you, Theresa..." he whispered in her ear. "Thank you so much..." He kissed her hair, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Then he straightened up, sniffing lightly. "And you _know _I'd never tell La Rouche!"

Lisbon laughed, slightly amazed that she'd done it. Draping one arm over her shoulders he started walking again, pressing her tightly to his side in a half-hug that made moving slightly difficult, but neither of them cared at all.

"Come on then!" Jane said loudly. "But I'm-"

He broke off suddenly, staring straight ahead.

"You're what?" Lisbon looked up at him. "Jane?"

His face split into a smile that she'd seen too many times before. Before she could groan to herself, he was off. "Look at _that_, Lisbon!" he shouted, jogging ahead to get a better look at the object that had so entranced him, leaving Lisbon to run after him, sighing.

It was a box. A big, _blue_ box. A big, blue, wooden box with "_Police Public Call Box_" written near the top. It even had a light on its roof that Lisbon assumed would illuminate appropriately. Lisbon could see nothing to get excited about, but Jane was practically jumping for joy at his new discovery.

"Look how blue it is!" he said in awe. "I've never seen one of these before! They used to have these in London in the nineteen hundreds. Police could lock people they arrested in them until they could facilitate them at the station!"

"Fascinating..." Lisbon drawled. "Come on, Jane, we have to go. I need to get everyone ready!"

"Can't you feel it though?" he gazed at her, seeming genuinely surprised.

"Feel what?"

"It!"

"Feel _what?_"

"It!" He said again, gesturing with his whole arm to the box. "Doesn't it just feel off to you? Weird and sort of wrong. Like you shouldn't be able to see it?"

"Then maybe you should pay attention to that feeling, quit seeing it, and get going back to CBI?"

He ignored her. "I wonder what's inside?" he thought aloud. He pressed how whole body against the box, one ear stuck to the wood, his face screwed up tightly, listeing intently for any sound coming from inside, palms flat against the surface, as if he could pass right through to the interior.

"Seriously, Jane, if you don't go _now _I'm gonna-"

"Watch out!" a loud voice called. The voice was British. Both the CBI employees turned just in time to see a tall man with wild brown hair in a pinstripe suit and a woman with long ginger hair come tearing towards them, a silver key clutched tightly in the man's outstretched hand. The pinstriped missile tripped a few feet away from the box, the key entered the lock and turned, the stranger crashed into the stunned consultant and they both tumbled through the open door of the box and vanished inside, the door closing swiftly behind them.

At this, Lisbon drew her gun. "CBI! Stop where you are and put your hands in the air!" There was no response from inside the box. "Let that man go and we can sort this out nice and quietly!"

"_Jane certainly knows how to get abducted in style..._" she thought quietly to herself.

"There's no time!" shouted the ginger woman from close behind the agent. "Get inside or get away!"

The woman grabbed Lisbon around the shoulders and shoved her into the box as well, falling in a heap on the floor as the door close behind them. Jane, it seemed had also tripped on entry, and now the strange man, Lisbon and the loud ginger were all lying on top of him.

But he didn't seem to mind. He was too busy staring in confusion, awe and disbelief at the room that surrounded him.

As entrys to strange situations go, Patrick Jane's and Theresa Lisbon's hadn't been the most graceful, or original, or memorable. The scene was made worse by the fact that only one of them had the decency to be properly impressed by what he saw, no matter how uncomfortable they were, no matter how many bodies were lying, winded and panting on top of his back as he lay on his chest on the metal grating that formed the floor of their new surroundings.

"_Whoa_..." Jane gasped.

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**I don't know how many chapters this will be in length, but I will get this done. It won't be very long, but it will be very emotional on Jane's part. **

**Let me know if you liked it?**

**Reviewers get bananas!**


	2. What?

**Halfway to decent update gap? What's wrong with me?**

**I like this chapter, it was very fun to write. Enjoy!**

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Normally, after being bundled into a box by a stranger, Jane would be trying to escape from the predicament, primarily by talking the stranger's ears off, and if that didn't work, and it normally did, he'd call for Lisbon, and she'd sort the whole thing out for him.

But this time... This time was different. _Very_ different. Jane found that he simply didn't care about the three people lying on top of him. He didn't care that he couldn't breathe because of their combined weight on his back. He didn't care that he seemed to have just been abducted, in some of the most bizarre circumstances he'd come across. Nor that Lisbon was yelling her head off somewhere above him. None of it mattered.

What mattered, what really mattered, was the room in which he now found himself. The floor was a metal grating, which slowly sloped up into the centre of the room. There were 4 pillars, if they could be called that, which appeared to be made of coral, or some other equally strange material, which curved, connecting the domed ceiling to the floor. The walls were curved too, meeting at the top of the room so that, in effect, there was no ceiling, and on them, everywhere, were little hexagons, which were a darker shade than the surrounding walls, and the little circles that were inside them.

And then there was the Middle. Jane subconsciously decided that the Middle should have a capital letter, as there was no way that anything as strange, and uniquely beautiful in its own way could not be capitalised. It seemed to be a console of some kind. Levers and knobs and buttons littered almost the entire surface, as well as timers, wheels, pumps, keyboards, paperweights, bells, disks and all other kinds of weird instruments that served no obvious purpose. However, Jane could somehow sense that it was important, despite the look of it, and how it looked like a junk shop had puked over its surface.

The pin-striped man wasted no time. He al-but threw the two women off him and ran at full pelt to the console, pulling levers and pushing buttons seemingly at random. "We've got to move! Quickly, or they'll catch up!"

The room shook ominously, so the loud ginger woman fell off Lisbon, who proceeded to shoot to her feet like she'd been electrocuted, followed quickly by the ginger herself. Jane stayed on the floor, he was still stunned. He was still trying to come to terms with what Lisbon had yet to realise.

"What the Hell is going on here!" she yelled loudly. The strange man ignored her, like he hadn't actually heard her exclamation, and continued with whatever it was the he was doing, glancing at a conveniently placed screen every now and again with a worried expression. This seemed to anger Lisbon, who raised her gun and pointed it squarely at the man's chest. "Who are you? And what do you want with us?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" the ginger woman shouted. She grabbed Lisbon's arms in an attempt at disarming her. Lisbon wasn't a Senior Agent for nothing, though, and easily deflected the ginger's actions.

"Over there, with your friend!" she ordered, motioning with the gun. The ginger scowled and grumbled, but complied, albeit slowly. "Jane, get up and get over here!"

Jane stayed put, his mouth opening and closing, but making no sounds.

"Jane? You OK?" Lisbon asked, but she received no response. "What did you do to him?" she asked the other man angrily, her finger tightening on the trigger. Normally she was above shooting people, but this was too much! Jane never shut up, and now he was silenced, twice in one day!

The other man suddenly looked up at her tone, the confusion evident on his face for a fraction of a second before a very Jane-like smile replaced it. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaimed, striding forward towards her, his hand outstretched, seemingly oblivious to the weapon aimed at him. "I'm the Doctor! And this is Donna!"

"Stay where you are!" Lisbon growled, pointing the gun at his face. He frowned at the firearm, but stepped back a few paces. "What did you do to my friend?" At this, the Doctor's gaze fell on Jane, who was being dragged to his feet by Lisbon's hand on his collar.

"Um..."

"Well?" Lisbon indicated to Jane's slightly gormless gaze, which was darting all around him in an attempt to absorb everything at once.

"The Doctor didn't do anything! This would never have happened if you two hadn't been in our way!" Donna stepped in to defend her wild-haired driver.

"I should point out that... I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name?" the Doctor wondered briefly.

"Agent Lisbon! And this is Patrick Jane!"

"I'm sorry, Agent, but that won't open... Or not in the way that you're expecting!" the Doctor hurriedly explained as Lisbon pulled the double doors open.

The sight that met her was incredible. Where there had once been a Sacramento street, there was an endless expanse of space. Red clouds swirled around in obscure patterns, starts burned brightly all around her, warm and cold at the same time. Rocks of all shapes and sizes floated along, stubbornly disobeying every law of physics that tried to restrain them. It was so unexpected to Lisbon's stressed mind, that she didn't think more than "_Oh, I'm in space..._" for a few seconds, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Then suddenly it hit her.

"Oh my God!" she screamed, fully in hysterics now. She stumbled backwards, into a still catatonic Jane, and they both tumbled to the floor again, Lisbon still screaming at the top of her lungs. "Where are we? Let us go, NOW!"

"We had to move! I told you to get in or get away! You didn't listen!" Donna pointed out, hands on hips, looking anything but sympathetic.

"Where are we?" Lisbon shouted again, frantically backing away on her backside form the still open door.

"Come now, Lisbon..." Jane said, perfectly calm. He was getting to his feet, straightening his jacket, striding towards the doors with an expression of wonder on his face, eyes brighter then they'd been for many, many years. "I should think it's obvious! We're on a spaceship! Apparently, one where the interior and exterior exist in entirely different dimensions, judging by the fact that there's no way that this room would fit inside that tiny box we saw before!" He paused, stroking the wood with one hand, apparently absent-mindedly. "And, it's alive!" he beamed, turning to look at his colleague in amazement.

All through Jane's revelation the Doctor had looked impressed, eyebrows rising higher and higher into his hairline. But at this, the Doctor dropped all pretences, and let his mouth fall open in shock. "What?"

"Your ship's alive!" repeated Jane, helping a shaking Lisbon to her feet, who was looking nothing short of dumfounded at her consultant.

"What?"

"It... No, sorry, _she's_ in my head... I can hear her humming..." he closed his eyes, a dreamy smile appearing on his face, and he hummed. A single note which only the Doctor knew the significance of.

"WHAT?"

"Wow... Brainy and drop-dead gorgeous!" Donna whistled appreciatively, though Jane apparently didn't hear, still humming quietly to himself, eyes darting around beneath closed lids, lost in a world of his own, smiling lazily. Lisbon heard however, and she whipped round, glaring at the ginger.

"We'll be leaving now!" she announced, grabbing her gun from where she'd dropped it, aiming once again at the Doctor. "Take us back and let us go!"

"Oi! You put that thing away! Stop pointing that at Space Man! He's done nothing wrong!" Donna roared, striding forward to take the gun off her. Jane beat her to it though. He swiftly picked the firearm out of Lisbon's unsuspecting hands, ejected the magazine, which he pocketed, and handed the gun back to its owner.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." he whispered, eyes still closed. "Calm down, Theresa...She doesn't like guns... No guns in here please..."

Lisbon had had enough. "_What is with you! _What's going on inside that think skull of yours? We're supposed to be getting back to CBI to have a great day with the rest of the team, or have you forgotten that, Patrick Jane? Has the Memory Palace got a hole in the battlements?" she slapped him over the back of the head. Jane's eyes flew open, and he blinked rapidly, as if waking from a dream.

"Huh? Wha-" he started.

"You two," Lisbon growled dangerously, pointing at the Doctor and Donna with a threatening finger and a now-empty gun. "you leave him alone! Stay out of his head! And get us out of here and back to Sacramento!"

"We did you a favour!" Donna defended herself. "We got you out of there! Any longer and you'd both have been turned into dog food!"

"A favour? You did us a favour by bowling us over into this god-forsaken box?" Neither of the women noticed as Jane started to edge away to the other side of the console, fingers drifting lightly over the surfaces as he passed.

"Yes! And if you don't want to believe it, we'll take you back to when you came from and then not help, see what happens then!"

"What's that supposed to mean! We didn't need your help! We were perfectly safe, until you kidnapped us against our will!"

"Well, your boyfriend doesn't seem to mind much!"

That did it. Lisbon was going into war, and she was not prepared to lose.

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The Doctor and Jane stood, side by side, on the other side of the console, watching the building scene with amused interest. They leant against the railing, calm as could be, almost mirroring each other's poses unconsciously, one leg crossed lightly over the other with arms folded.

The Doctor turned to the blonde-haired man. "The Doctor" he said, extending his hand. Jane took it. "Patrick Jane" Then they turned back to face their respective friends, smiles playing lightly on their faces.

The Doctor was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Patrick Jane could communicate with his TARDIS. She'd talked with others before, of course, like Rose, Sarah-Jane, and Jack on occasion, but this was new. None of the others had heard her music. Jane had hummed the exact note, and that development sent shivers down the Doctor's spine. He must be special, very special for the TARDIS to like him so much.

"So," Jane began calmly, "you're an alien?"

The Doctor looked at him, somewhere between shock and relief that he was so cool with it. "How'd you guess?"

"Well... Spaceship, space outside of the doors, instantaneous travel, cool flashy console in the middle of the room, she called you Space Man... It all helped... But the real giveaway was far less obvious. Well, to me anyway."

"And that was...?"

Jane held up his right hand, wiggling the fingers. "I took your pulse." he said, smiling.

"Ah..."

"Double beat. Nice... Two hearts?"

"Yep"

"Neat..."

"Well..."

They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes more, watching the two women do battle with some of the most colourful language that even the Doctor had ever encountered.

"Tea?" said the Doctor.

"Thought you'd never ask!" Jane replied, and the pair practically skipped out together, Jane following behind, still humming with the TARDIS.

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**Next chapter; Jane and the Doctor have a heart to hearts!**

**Like it? Leave me a review! There's a banana in it for you! ;)**


	3. Tea And Testing

**I'm late again... I really wanted to get this chapter right, which took much longer than I expected. But, I hope you like the finsihed item, I'm rather proud of it!**

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The Doctor led Jane out of the console room, leaving the two women to argue in peace. Jane had mentioned to his new friend how Lisbon would not give in until she'd won the battle, and the Doctor had said the same about Donna without a moment's hesitation, so both men knew that they could be facing a long time in each other's company.

They passed countless doorways and corridors, the Doctor giving a running commentary of all the rooms as they went.

"There's one of the bowling alleys, a painting room, sugar factory, banana grove 6, virtual reality suite, garage and, of course, one of the shiny labs I use when I get bored-"

"Bored as in, you want to blow something up?" Jane commented with a knowing smile.

"Well..." the Doctor looked away, mentally asking his ship to stop telling the human his entire life story.

"And there's the kitchen!" Jane exclaimed, pointing and almost jumping in excitement at his discovery.

The Doctor groaned and berated his ship again, to which he received only smug amusement and humour.

Jane already knew exactly where the tea was kept thanks to the TARDIS, and had the bags in the cups before the Doctor had even entered the room. He also knew how the Doctor liked his tea, again, thanks to the sentient time-ship he was currently in, but thought he should ask anyway; he didn't want to seem even more of a know-it-all than usual. Though, since the Doctor had never met him before, it was kind of a moot point. Jane shrugged to himself, and carried on with the age-old task of preparing the hot beverage.

The Doctor kept to the wall, silently observing the blonde human with amusement. Patrick probably didn't even realise he was doing it, but he was wandering around as if he owned the place. It was probably the TARDIS. She had a habit of tinkering too much with the minds of any humans that came on board. She flittered through their thoughts, helping whenever she could, and occasionally playing jokes. Every time Patrick chuckled to himself, the Doctor knew she was doing just that.

By the time the drinks were ready, Jane was whistling quietly, and happy smile playing on his face. Both men sat at the table across from one another, and took their first sip together. The Doctor pulled a face.

"What?" Jane asked.

"Nothing... Just... Tastes weird..." but he took another sip anyway. Just because it tasted weird didn't mean it tasted bad. He'd have to adjust. After all, he didn't want to offend Patrick, who seemed like the kind of man who prided himself on his tea-making abilities.

"So..." the Doctor began, without really knowing what he was going to say.

"What were you doing in Sacramento? And what did Donna mean by 'dog food'? Where you being chased or something?"

The Doctor laughed. "Donna likes to exaggerate. You wouldn't have been turned into dog food at all! You might have been shot, by a very angry guy with a gun, though... Well, when I say "guy" I mean alien immigrant, _legal_ alien immigrant, who thought we were the Shadow Proclamation..."

To his credit, Jane didn't laugh, as so many other might. He simply sat there for a few seconds, and didn't even look surprised. Then he blinked and took another drink. "I won't tell Lisbon that..."

"I'll leave that up to you, Patrick!"

"What kind of alien? What does it look like? I mean, I'm just assuming that it at least _looks_ human, otherwise there'd be outcry and panic and all that jazz, so how does it look normally, and how come it looks human? What's the Shadow Proclamation? Are they the bad guys?"

And so the questions continued, and the Doctor was more than happy to answer them.

* * *

"No way? She actually turned into an egg?"

"Yep! I told her not to look into the Heart of the TARDIS, but she did."

It had been some time since Jane and Lisbon had found their way onto the TARDIS, and Jane and the Doctor had since consumed their weights in tea. But neither of them wanted to stop, they were getting along too well to walk away. Jane was a good listener, so the Doctor told him about some of his adventures, without mentioning the fact that the TARDIS could travel in time. That might be too much for Patrick's mind to handle at this point, so neither the Doctor, nor the TARDIS had mentioned it to him. Also, Jane had some interesting views on life, and one or two stories of his own to tell, which amused the Doctor to no end.

They had checked in a few times with the two women, who were still locked in a seemingly endless war of words. They had gently steered the combatants into a different room, so that Jane could explore the console to his hearts' content. His fingers gently felt every single lever and button, every sphere and pump, eyes twinkling, as he tried to guess what each one did. He even sometimes got them right, and each time would make the Doctor wonder more about the man.

There was just something about him... The Doctor felt closer to this stranger then he had with anyone for many years, he'd even told him about his ability to regenerate, how his home planet was gone, to which Jane was genuinely sympathetic, and enquired no more. But still, the Doctor knew he could open up to Patrick Jane, though he didn't know how he knew. The TARDIS wasn't telling him, she said he had to ask for himself. That was all well and good, but the Doctor had no clue as to how to broach the subject, let alone what to ask about.

Patrick Jane was special, that much was clear, but how to tell exactly _why _he was so special, was about as clear as mud.

"And this one... Hang on, don't tell me..."

"I wasn't going to!" the Doctor smiled. Patrick would _never _guess that particular button.

"Hmmmm..." Jane pondered to himself, his face scrunched tight in thought and concentration. Then he clapped his hands. "I've got it! _You _don't actually know what this one does, because you didn't read the manual! You _think _this one sends out a distress signal! You don't use it, which is obvious, as it's the only button on this whole console that's coated in dust, and judging by what you've told me of your life, you're normally the one responding to distress calls, rather than being responded to. So you have something against it. You haven't dusted it either to make it blend in, which suggests that you don't even intent to use it, ever. That or you just don't care how your ship looks, as long as it works. No offence, girl?" he paused, smiling at the central column, which hummed and glowed in response.

"Anyway, what was I saying? Ah yes, you _think _it sends out a distress signal, but in reality, or whichever dimension you happen to be in, you press it, and it connects to the highest authority on the nearest planet, and you can communicate as you will, without any hindering firewalls or passwords or any other annoying security thing. Tell you what; I could think of plenty of uses for that one... That would annoy LaRouche to no end! I bet I could... What's wrong?" he trailed off as he saw the Doctor's expression.

"How did you do that?" the Doctor asked.

"Do what?"

"You're right... Completely right... I did think it was the distress signal button... If I'd received as much information about me as you have, I'd have assumed it was the distress signal button too... But... How'd you know what it actually did, when even I didn't?"

"It's obvious really... I worked out the functions around it, and they all seem to be related to some kind of disaster or another, and so it stood to reason that there's be some kind of communications option nearby. The fact that it's apparently never been used, and has not been taken care of in the same way as the rest of the ship shows that you have problems with it, and so you either didn't know what it did, or had assumed wrongly as to its purpose, or, you don't want to be able to contact the outside in case of emergency, which I seriously doubt. Ergo, direct line to the nearest authority able to send help! Voila!" Jane finished with a flourish, bowing to the Time Lord.

"No."

Jane looked up, confused, straightening to look the Doctor in the eye. "Sorry?"

"No. It's not obvious. Not obvious in the slightest..." the Doctor trailed off, looking thoughtful. "Can I try something with you?"

"At least buy me dinner first!" Jane laughed uncertainly.

The Doctor smiled. "Nothing like that, I promise..." He stepped back a few paces and held both hands behind his back. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Can I ask what you're hoping to achieve with this?"

"No. How many fingers?"

Jane sighed dramatically, quickly scanning the room for anything reflective he could use. Upon finding nothing, he decided to throw caution to the wind and do what the Doctor wanted. "4?" he said at random.

"Good! Now?"

Jane was surprised. He'd said 4 for no reason at all. Gaining confidence he tried again. "6?"

"Yup!"

"7?"

"Uh-huh!"

"3?"

"Ding ding!"

"10?"

"Right!"

"1!"

"Collect £200 and pass Go!"

"5!"

"Correctamundo! Oh no... Never mind, carry on!"

"2! And next you'll do 9, then 7, then 3, 1, 4, 8!"

"Check, check, check, check, check, check, check!"

Jane was grinning insanely. "How'd I do?"

"Passed with flying colours, Mr. Jane! I was right!"

"Right about what?" Jane asked, confused.

"You, Patrick, are psychic." The Doctor announced, instantly mistaking Jane's expression for disbelief. "Low-level psychic ability, far more advanced than any other human I've ever met. Probably focused by the fact that you're in the TARDIS-"

"I'm not psychic..." Jane said, quietly, looking at his shoes.

"But you are, Patrick!"

"No, I'm not... There's no such things as psychics..." He was shaking his head slowly.

"Well, it's not observation, that's for sure! No mirrors or anything reflective, just our minds and my hands. No ordinary person could have done what you just did, Patrick! In fact, not many beings in the Universe can read my mind at all, let alone with the ease that you just displayed. If that's not psychic ability then I'm Jack Harkness' next date!"

"I'm NOT PSYCHIC!" Jane shouted, his face and voice hard, anger rolling off him in waves, as he pounded his own chest violently. "I'm not psychic! They don't exist! No such thing as psychics! No matter what you, or Kristina, or anyone else says, I'm _NOT PSYCHIC!"_ he yelled, his voice echoing loudly in the wide space. He turned on his heel and stormed from the room, deeper into the ship.

He pushed roughly passed Lisbon in the doorway. "What the Hell, Jane?" she exclaimed, angry at first, before she saw the look on his face and in his eyes. Then he was gone. She turned to the other man in the middle of the room. "We heard Jane yelling. What happened? What did you do to him?"

The Doctor was still frozen in shock, confused and surprised at Patrick's sudden, unexpected outburst. He was about to answer Lisbon when Donna jogged in. "I passed Brainy in the corridor, what'd you do to him, Doctor?"

The Time Lord thought that this was a little unfair, and was about to say so, when Lisbon suddenly interrupted. "You know what, never mind!" she growled, and ran after Jane before she lost him in the maze which was the TARDIS interior.

The Doctor remained where he was for a few seconds. What had that all been about? Donna was talking to him, asking him what had happened, but he wasn't listening. He leant over the console, thinking deeply.

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**So what do you think? Maybe the Doctor shouldn't have gone there? O.O**

**Reviewers get banana's!**


	4. Duck On Fire, House On Water

**I know it's short, but that's better than nothing, right? I wanted to get this chapter just right, and, to be totally honest, I'm not 100% sure about it. But I'm afraid that if I try to do anything else to it, I'll ruin it completely.**

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Lisbon ran as fast as she could through the winding corridors. If she'd been thinking properly, she might have wondered exactly how she knew where Jane was, why all the corridors all looked almost identical, that this box was far, _far _bigger than she'd first thought, and how she knew how to get to where she knew Jane was. As it happened, she was wondering how she could have missed the sheer size of the place for the last few hours, but she was concentrating harder on getting to her friend than her lack of rational thought.

Arguing with that woman, Donna, had taken far longer than she expected. Lisbon was a seasoned soldier on the front line of word wars, thanks to the same man she was now chasing, but it turned out that Donna was no novice either. It had been entertaining to see how far she could push the other woman, and even more entertaining to see Donna give just as good as she got. Normally, she would walk away from such experiences, it was practically pointless to get into these kinds of arguments, but it had been a weird kind of day, and she'd needed a release. Donna seemed to notice this, and let Lisbon let off some steam, while letting off some of her own.

The two women got on very well, considering, and Lisbon wasn't really sure if that should worry her or not.

They hadn't even noticed when the two men had led them gently into another room in this weird place, and had only realised when Jane's enraged shouts were loud enough to snap them out of their argument, and emerge to see what was causing such a commotion.

That was when Lisbon had seen the look on Jane's face. He'd almost crashed straight into her in his haste to get away from that other man – the Doctor, hadn't Donna called him? – with such a fiercely angry expression, that any hostility she'd held towards the blonde had migrated instantly onto the Doctor, as the cause of her friend's anguish.

And now, as a result, she was chasing Jane as fast as her legs would carry her. This was the worst possible day for Jane to get angry, especially to the degree that she'd seen in his eyes. She could just about hear his footfalls, always too far ahead of her to be able to see him, but close enough that she could follow. Just about.

She told herself that she was going to take care of him today. Well, keep him happy anyway, she took care of him daily as it was. Something the Doctor had said or done had set Jane off in a way that not even Red John had managed so far, and she was going to sort it out, no matter what.

It occurred to her momentarily to get all the information first, to know what the Doctor had done to upset Jane so, but that rational part of her mind was quickly squashed by the part which only cared about Jane's emotional, mental and physical safety, as, usually, a threat to one was followed soon enough by threats to the other two.

And so, Lisbon ran faster, hoping she could get to him before anything happened. She only took minimal notice of the way the corridors seemed to be changing even as she ran down them, aiding her in her chase. She'd think about it later, she'd almost had enough for today.

* * *

Jane was seething. How dare he? How _dare_ that Doctor say that? He's spent the last few years correcting everyone and anyone about the existence of psychics, and his own standing. He and the Doctor had been getting on fine. Hell, they were getting on like a duck on fire, like a house on water! Something was wrong with that sentence, but he'd work it out later... And then the guy had just come out with it! "_Oh, by the way, you're psychic, Patrick! Now, would you like some more tea?_"

Stupid alien, with his stupid sentient spaceship, stupid banana grove, stupid tea, stupid flashy console, and his stupid, stupid, _stupid _guessing games!

Jane couldn't just stand there and be told that his one core value, the thing he'd been telling the world for years, was a lie. So, he ran. He thought he might have crashed into Lisbon as he escaped, but he frankly couldn't care. Lisbon was a big girl; she could take care of herself. He had to get away from the alien throwing his beliefs back in his face as if he couldn't care what Jane himself thought about it. He hadn't been denying his previous life for all these years for fun, believe it or not!

The crazy's couldn't be right. There was no such thing as psychics. Psychics were just con-men, who very good at their job. And there job was to trick marks to separate with ridiculous amounts of money. Marks, suckers, idiots, whatever you wanted to call them. Patrick Jane was no psychic. Kristina was wrong. Psychics do _not_ exist. There is only the show. The show of distracting the audience enough, be it a crowd of a single individual, so that you can observe everything you need about them to be able to reach the dear departed soul of their Uncle Bob and let he loved them, and some remark about forgiving someone close to them, or he can't be happy.

Suddenly, Jane couldn't run anymore. He dashed though one last door, slamming it behind him and hurried further into the room. Without even looking up he could tell it was a library. The place smelled of books. Old books, new books, somewhere-in-between books.

See? _That's _all you need to do to be a psychic! Know things. Like the smells or sounds associated with the mundane lives of the general public. That didn't make him psychic, it made him smart. It made him clever. It made him a professional. It made him a showman. It made him an expert. It made him a _winner_.

He ran this way and that, past shelves and shelves of books, in every colour and size. Any other time, and he would have been dying to read every single one. Who knew how much knowledge there was in these treasures.

But now, he couldn't care less. He just had to hide, so no-one could find him. One last turn and he hit a wall. Literally. He smashed both fists against it, silent screams bouncing around inside his head as he hit the surface again and again and again. Finally, his legs folded beneath him and he slide down the wall to rest.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms round his shins, head on his knees, and stayed silent and still. He didn't cry. He was too angry to cry. He just had to hide.

How long he stayed that way, he didn't know. Then he felt Lisbon sit next to him. He should have known she'd follow. Though he didn't acknowledge her presence, he knew that she understood. She always understood, even when she didn't know it.

She said nothing, and made no attempt to touch him, she just simply sat there, letting him know she was close, when he was ready. And so they sat, neither crying, neither smiling, both waiting for one of them to be ready to talk.

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**As I said; short. But, quality rather than quantitiy, and all that jazz?**

**Next chapter, the guys settle their differences**

**Reviewers get bananas!**


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